Hate Me Today
by Slytherin-Smartass69
Summary: He Was Drunk.. Again. He raised his hand.. Again. Hermione's mother is dead, he blamed her. Her mother's Blood was on her hands. She was nothing but a fragile shell of her former self. Will someone save her before she sinks too deep into depression? DMHG
1. Prologue Her Blood

Hate me Today

Prologue- Her blood

Another drunken night.

My father walks through the door with a bottle of vodka hanging limply in his hand. The same way it's been for months, since mother died.

He blamed me.

It was all my fault that she had died in his mind.

I should have been in the driver's seat of the car when we smashed into the phone poll. I should be the one dead.

It would have been easier to loose his daughter than his wife. And I agree with him, anything would be better than what I live through day to day.

I can't say a word to anyone; I mean how would that look? Hermione Granger is Perfect, the perfect grades a third of the golden trio and of course all would assume the perfect family.

I look over to the chair where he sits, maybe if I'm lucky tonight I can make it to my room without him noticing me.

Not Tonight.

He stands and walks over to me, his fist raised and ready to strike. Once, twice, three times, it's all the same show no pain and he may show mercy.

After all, why should he stop, it's my fault she isn't here right now I should be ten feet under, not her.

Hermione Granger, her blood's on your hands.


	2. Diagon Alley

Chapter 1- I want to Swim But I don't Know How

As I rolled over in my bed I could feel the damage from last night. A broken rib maybe two? I can never tell, I can't do magic outside of school for another month, and I most definitely can't go to the muggle doctor so they'll have to heal by themselves.

Two days.

In two days I get too leave this hell hole, and to tell you the truth I don't plan on coming back. Im leaving for good this time, I'll take some money and after Hogwarts is over I'll find some small place in the wizarding world. I don't plan on looking back, unfortunately I'm human, I'll live with the regret though.

There's nothing wrong with what my dad does and I know that because, I deserve it.

I walk over to my closet and grab my clothing for the day, an old pair of jeans torn at the knee and a simple white tee. Making my way into the bathroom, I strip off my pyjamas and look over my body in the mirror.

The sight horrifies even me. My skin, marred with bruises and a few nasty cuts, is deathly pale. My bones all jut out at awkward angles, probably from being broken, and not properly healed. There was nothing left to me, I had lost weight in an attempt to please my father, and I had been foolish. I had thought if I looked better he would have been more excepting, but no, it just made the beating more painful since there was less separating his fist from my bones.

Just for the point of it I stepped onto the scale, it read 95 pounds.

When the summer had started I had weighed 125, a healthy weight for a girl who was 5'7".

But that was before she had died.

Without another glance into the mirror I stepped into the shower and under the steaming hot drops of water that came from the shower head. I simply stood there under the spray of water, just hot enough to burn my skin thinking. I glanced towards the razor that sat on the side of the tub, but really I could never take my own life.

Not because I deserved to live, No.

But because I didn't deserve to get to die, I wasn't worth even that.

I deserve everything that's happening to me, if I didn't it wouldn't be happening, would it? No it wouldn't, after all everything happens for a reason.

I stepped out of the shower after finishing what I needed to do, and slipped into the clothes I had picked out that were obviously too big, I didn't merit good things.

I am going into Diagon Alley today to pick up my school supplies, and hopefully no one will see me. I pick up my purse, and slip on some old sneakers.

Making my way downstairs quietly, I walk into the sitting room to see what I had expected. An empty bottle, and a passed out father. I grabbed the car keys from the table in the kitchen and walked out the door.

It was a short drive to the leaky cauldron from my house, but the traffic made it longer than I had expected. I walked into the restaurant and up to the wall where the entrance to Diagon Alley was, taping my wand on the bricks opened the door and I walked through.

The next time I opened my eyes I was met with the familiar sight of the wizarding world at its finest. Many students roamed the streets alongside their parents, she hid her face from all that she recognized she knew she would have to face them eventually but she would wait till that time came, prolonging the inevitable really.

She hadn't lost the capability to think rationally, she was still sure to graduate at the top of her class and continue to be the brightest witch Hogwarts had seen in ages. So she knew that eventually one of her friends would see her and make a big deal about how frail and sick she looked.

Her skin deathly pale, dark circles under her eyes from being to terrified to sleep in case he would come into her room, nothing left to her body but skin and fractured bones. But she wasn't worried right now, she'd have plenty of time to worry later, what she had to do right now was get all her school stuff without being noticed.

She made her way to madam Malkin's first since she would definitely need some new robes that might not fall off her body, and that would hopefully help hide all the bruises, and scars. When she stepped inside, her blood ran cold. There on the pedestal being fitted for his robes was Draco Malfoy. She tried to turn and leave the shop before anyone saw her but she was not so lucky since, just outside of the door in the middle of the street stood, Ron, Harry and Ginny.

She had to make her choice would she rather brave seeing her friends or Malfoy? At this point she chose Malfoy, because she knew that all she'd receive were some cruel insults where as if she went to see her friends she'd have to deal with their questioning.

She turned and walked over to Madam Malkin, and asked at what time she could be fitted for new Hogwarts robes, and Madam Malkin replied that she could measure Hermione right now, on the pedestal to the right of Malfoy. Hermione hesitantly agreed, and went over too it and stepped up.

Madam Malkin was in the back room getting Malfoy's robes; well that's what Hermione guessed anyways. It was then Hermione was noticed, Malfoy turned to her with his customary sneer placed on his face. He shook his head and then spoke.

"It's truly amazing the type of filth they would let into stores these days, you'd think they wouldn't want the merchandise tainted." He spat coldly.

She simply ignored him, what did he know anyways right? It wasn't like what he was saying was true.

Madam Malkin came out of the back room and presented Malfoy with his robes, the pair walked to the counter and he passed her a few galleons, and turned to leave. Just before he stepped out the door he turned and faced Hermione, "See you at school Mudblood" he said simply, and exited.

Theses words seemed to come down on Hermione, weighing more than a ton of bricks. Of course she had heard him call her that horrible name before, but had never given it a second thought. Oh she was thinking now, if all that her father told her was true then was Malfoy telling the truth?

Was she really just a Filthy Little Mudblood?


	3. The Run In

**A/N- Hey guys sorry for the long update time, truth is I only finished this chapter yesterday and then sent it to my awesome beta Regency. Because she's so awesome she had it returned by this morning I read it did my personal final touches and here it is. A few quick notes this story is AU, and characters are slightly OOC if your really into the traditional character exactly how they are portrayed in the book you may be disappointed a little :(. I write the characters how I see them in my mind after reading the books many times.**

**Disclaimer- The characters are obviously not mine, those belong to the fab JK Rowling.**

**Chapter 2- I'm cold as cold can be **

Hermione quickly made her way home after gathering the rest of her supplies, and packing them neatly away in the new trunk she had bought. When she arrived home her father wasn't there. Not very surprising since this was his usual time to kick off his drinking for the day. Chances were that he had a prime spot at a bar counter at a bar within walking distance.

Hermione pulled her trunk upstairs, towards her bedroom so it would be out of the sight of her father. It would only anger him to see the proof that she was going to leave him just as her mother had, the only difference being that Hermione would be leaving by choice, not by death.

Hermione had gotten back from Diagon Alley much sooner than she had anticipated, and it left her far too much time to think about things. She had roughly an hour left before her father would be home, so she pondered. She pondered the question that was now on her mind: Was she really just a worthless mudblood? Did she really taint the Wizarding World with germs and was she nothing more than a black mark on the name of wizard, as Malfoy often said?

Time must have slipped away from her because before she knew it she heard a banging noise come from downstairs that was immediately followed by screaming. This didn't faze Hermione in the slightest for that was the routine: get smashed, be kicked out of that night's bar for starting a fight, walk home, swing the door open to a point where it's lucky to still be on the hinges, whack his foot on the sofa and then who could forget the grand finale? Beat his only daughter to a pulp.

You may want to ask why her father would do such a thing, the truth was that he truly couldn't afford to loose the only thing good left in his life. This was his way of forcing her to stay, or so he thought.

She heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and quickly snuggled into her bed to give the appearance of sleeping. Because maybe, just maybe if he thought she was asleep he would leave her alone. Even though she deserved all that came her way, she desperately hoped he would just think that enough was enough for a change. No such luck.

Hermione woke up the next morning, and rolled over in her bed, wincing as she felt last night's effects full blast. She was almost certain that her shoulder had been dislocated, and the pain seemed to mock her, pin and needles running through her stiff body.

She felt nothing but an almost comfortable numbness, for last night she had finally lost the rest of the battle; she had accepted what her father had been telling her the whole time as the truth.

She was worthless.

_You're worthless Hermione Granger, Absolutely worthless._

Today was the day she would board the train that would take her to the rest of her life. She was running and never looking back. She was only moving forward from here on out.

All her things were packed up and all she had left to do was to get dressed. She put on some old jeans that fit her after an altering spell along with an off-the-shoulder white sweater. You may question why she would wear an off the shoulder sweater, but the truth of the matter was that all her clothes hung off her body limply somewhere. Nothing special of course, because she wasn't special and she didn't deserve anything mind blazingly stunning or simply anything special.

As she looked in the mirror, she realized that even though she was used to seeing the scratches and the bruises, the rest of the world wasn't. She was still the saint of Gryffindor who was perfect and had everything in life easy. She fumbled with the clasp on her trunk and dug through its contents until she found the book she had been looking for, _1000 Glamour's for Today's Witch_. She flipped through the book till she found a page on scars & blemishes and how to make them invisible to all eyes save for a few.

She wished that she could simply banish them, but the best charm she could find was one that would hide them from most people, This was just a book for teen witches it wouldn't contain intricate spells such as those needed to cover abuse. The spell she chose would cover her body until midnight tonight; all it did was apply a foundation like layer of cover-up over her entire body. If someone really took the time to look they could surely see the damage. She decided she would simply search the restricted section at Hogwarts tonight far after curfew.

She thought this glamour would be enough, for today anyways.

The manor was cold and empty, the same as everyday in Malfoy manor. Well, since his mother had died anyway. Okay, not really died, more like been brutally murdered by her very own husband, the infamous Lucius Malfoy.

Draco rolled over and groaned when his eyes met the bright sun sneaking into his room through the parted curtains. His groan, half annoyance at the sun, half agony from the broken rib he was sporting. Lucius had been furious when he had come home from the Death Eater meeting and who else was there to take his wrath but his son.

This was just a normal day to Draco though. Wake up, cast a few healing charms, maybe brew a healing potion, and finish it off with a glamour charm to hide all of the evidence.

A small voice inside of Draco asked_, "Why not tell someone? Why not save yourself?"_ Then, of course his rational side kicked in. No one at Hogwarts would understand his problems. They all went home over their breaks to the warm embraces of their loving parents, a steaming home cooked feast; and a warm, soft bed to rest their head for the night. They didn't come home to a brutal, emotionless bastard who pledged everything to what was quite possibly the most revolting thing Draco had ever seen in his life, Lord Voldemort. They weren't tossed into the dungeons with the rest of the prisoners, and they most certainly were not used as a test dummy for the new Dark Arts spells Death Eaters were creating by the day, he of course only got the non-lethal ones, after all his father couldn't kill off his precious heir.

Today, he left for Hogwarts. This would give him a purpose in life even if it only lasted until the Christmas break. He was free from his father and all the other binds that held him, except for his reputation as nothing more than a stuck up, Pureblood prat. In reality, all he was looking for was good, intelligent conversation. All those times he had fought with Granger had really only been un-friendly banter to him, no real hate. She seemed to be the only one who could match his wit and intellect. No matter the situation, she always had a witty response.

After he had packed and silently flooed out of the manor, he made his way to Platform 9 ¾, anticipating the long peaceful train ride to Hogwarts. That's when she struck him. Hermione Granger had accidentally tripped over his trunk and was now sprawled across the grimy floor. Fleetingly he'd thought to question who was going to be Head Girl, but the gleaming badge pinned to Granger's chest sufficiently answered that question and seemed to be silently mocking him at the same time.

Upon noticing Granger was still struggling to push herself up off the ground, he offered a hand. It wasn't exactly the Malfoy attitude but he and granger had to see each other everyday of the upcoming school year and he was not going to kick it off fighting with the he- weasel and the boy who refused to die over something as trivial as this, and maybe just maybe something in the back of his head told him that he should do it What do people call that? Oh, yeah, a conscience.

The clumsy girl surprised him when she actually accepted his help, and shocked him even further when he didn't even have to strain to lift her body from the ground. That seemed to only increase his confusion; the witch was lighter than his bloody trunk. That lead him to question what she weighed, it couldn't be much more then 90 pounds. Before he had time to compose himself Granger had managed to compose herself and run through the barrier, but as he'd watched her body disappear through the brick wall, he could have sworn he saw a hand-shaped bruise wrapped around the back of her neck.

He shrugged it off as a lack of sleep over the summer and hurried through after her, maybe he would question her on the train. After all, they shared the Heads' compartment.


	4. A Helping Hand

A/N: Hey guys sorry about the really long update time  I'm going to try to write more often, but no promises. I have the next chapter half done and would be willing to spend some time writing the rest of it if I get 15 reviews of this chapter. That would mean the next chapter would be up on Tuesday. Hope y'all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am unfortunately not the owner of Draco Malfoy Boohoo  or any other character of Jk Rowling's. Double boohoo

Hermione proceeded to weave in and out of the vast crowd on platform 9 ¾, avoiding as many of her "friends" as she could. This was really not the time or the place for them to have the discussion she knew was inevitable. It was going to go exactly as she had imagined it, they would question her whereabouts over the summer, why she hadn't written to them, and of course her appearance. Somewhere during the conversation Ron would get angry enough that all hell would break loose, not a pleasant sight.

But the real problem was, she couldn't give them the answers they'd want, she couldn't tell them the truth. They hadn't ever had to deal with something like she had; they wouldn't understand the pain she had been put through. And they especially wouldn't understand what it was like to have it all inflicted by her own father, her own flesh and blood. The one who was suppose to be protecting her from the pain, not inflicting it.

She effortlessly slipped onto the train, unnoticed by those she was trying to avoid, and stealthily made her way to the heads compartment. She slipped the door open and hauled her trunk in, her next move was to attempt to place her trunk on the rack overhead designed for luggage. There was only one problem, she could barley lift her trunk a foot off the ground, let alone over her head.

While she was debating on how she would get it onto the rack, the compartment door opened and Draco Malfoy entered. In a single swift motion he gracefully lifted his trunk and placed it overhead, then gracelessly plopped tiredly into his seat. Now she really had a problem, she had two options in her eyes. Attempt to lift her trunk and appear weak in front of the enemy, or lower her pride enough to actually be able to ask Malfoy for help. Either way she lost. Well it was now or never.

She summoned all her strength, and with a mighty pull managed to lift her trunk a measly two feet from the floor before she had to let it go. She heard a snort of laugher in the background, before some shuffling. Before she knew it her trunk was taken from her hands and easily placed on the rack overhead.

"If you needed help Mudblood, all you had to do was ask" Muttered Malfoy as he retook his seat and lapsed back into silence.

"Thank you" was Hermiones muffled reply before she as well took a seat.

For the majority of the ride to Hogwarts the heads compartment was silent, and for that Hermione was beyond grateful. However Malfoy decided to break the silence with a question.

"So when did you get that bruise on the back of your neck Granger, you know the one in the shape of a hand? Did the weasel get a little out of control during your last session?" he asked with a smarmy smirk adorning his face.

Hermione didn't answer him though, she was thinking about that night. The night that haunted her dreams, the night that had ruined the rest of her life. The night her mother died. She could hear the sirens, and the footfalls of the firemen and paramedics rushing to her and her mother's aid. She could hear her mothers screams of pure agony as the last bit of life was drained from her limp body. They had all been too late to save her. All she could see was the black of the night and the crimson pool of her mother's blood.

"Granger?" Malfoy asked uncertainly, moving his hand in front of her face.

All of a sudden Hermione snapped out of her reverie and back to the present.

"Did you say something Malfoy?" Hermione questioned in a small fragile voice, it was all that she could muster after thinking of that memory, it took all of her energy to keep herself from simply breaking down and crying.

.

Draco's POV

I looked at Granger, expecting to find that usual spark of fire in her eyes, but it was gone. Gone was the Hermione Granger I knew, the proud Mudblood, the granger with wits to shoot back an insult. She was gone.

In her place sat a truly broken girl, fragile and miserable beyond words. She looked like I did when I was alone and could let down the walls I've built up around myself. If you looked into her eyes you could see the tears threatening to escape, but most of all you could see an emptiness that had never been there before.

I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe we weren't as different as we thought. We were both damaged goods.

"Nothing, Granger absolutely nothing" I found myself saying.

I was shocked to tell the truth, she was wearing her heart on her sleeve. Why wasn't she hiding these emotions away? She was making herself completely vulnerable in front of the enemy and she didn't care.

I found myself studying her for the rest of the trip; she seemed to be as out of it as Lovegood was on one of her better days. As I was scanning her over I noticed more bruises adorning her body, not unlike the one I had acquired from my father over the summer.

That led me to the question, Was Granger being abused by someone? Was she going through the same thing that I was?

.

Hermione's POV

I could feel his eyes on me, it made me want to squirm but I just didn't have the energy to do anything about it. If I said anything we'd start fighting, and I really just didn't have the fight in me.

Thankfully the train came to a slow halt, and I rose from my seat and began the attempt to collect my baggage. Malfoy stood at the same time and removed his bag from the rack then stood simply staring at me for a moment before he removed my trunk from the rack as well.

As I was about to pick up my trunk he pulled out his wand, and pointed it at me.

"What do you" I was cut off as he murmured a weightless charm on my trunk then on his own. I was stunned, had Malfoy just done another kind thing? For me? He was actually acting human.

As I was about to thank him, he opened the compartment door and strutted out, his usual arrogance visible in every step. I followed his lead and also made my way out of the compartment and into the vast sea of students returning to Hogwarts.

Somehow I managed to acquire my own carriage and successfully avoid my friends all at the same time. I was planning on skipping the feast and heading strait to the heads dorms; the dorms were located in a west facing tower and could be reached by traveling through many secret passageways. Though only the two heads and the headmaster knew the password to the portrait protecting them.

As Hermione excited the carriage, she was spotted by none other than Ginny Weasley, who immediately notified Harry and Ron. The trio was soon heading her way, smiling and waving in the process. It was too late to make a run for it now; the confrontation after all could probably be avoided until after dinner.


End file.
